


Pod People

by Kuailong



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-22 04:05:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2493776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuailong/pseuds/Kuailong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domestic bliss equals pod people, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dracowolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracowolf/gifts).



> Totes a gift fic for Dracowolf. Because of reasons.

Natasha jerked awake, chest heaving. There was a person against her back, but they were asleep. She cracked her eyes open and peered out at her room. In Stark Tower. The weight against her back suddenly made sense, it wasn’t her room, it was their room. The nightmare had disoriented her, but it wasn’t her first one, and she laid there for a moment, trying to calm her hammering heart. She knew how to handle nightmares, but she wouldn’t be going back to sleep. Glancing over at the clock, she wanted to groan. But she didn’t dare wake Bruce up. Half past three in the morning. Very carefully she extracted herself from Bruce’s arms, moving silently and slowly. She was glad to note he only shifted to get more comfortable, she snagged an over-sized t-shirt and threw it on over her body and shuffled out to the hallway. Natasha had one goal in mind, a pot of tea, and maybe reading something on her tablet. She was awake now, and she needed to do things that would distract her from the night terror.

Padding along the hallway, she ran her hand through her hair in an attempt to straighten it out and tame it. At least she didn’t toss or turn during nightmares. Her training wouldn’t let her. She finally reached the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the lights. She could see well enough to pull down the cannister of tea she wanted. She scooped enough into the tea maker to make herself an entire pot before turning the appliance on. She hauled herself up onto the counter to sit and watch the tea maker do its job. Her tablet was out in the living room, she’d head there after she had a cup of tea in her hands. She glanced down at the floor and almost chuckled at how much cabinet was between her feet and the floor. For a short man, Tony designed awfully tall kitchens. The step-stool hidden in the corner was testament to that, she couldn’t reach the middle shelves without it. Though most days she just settled for climbing the counters to get what she wanted. Finally her tea was finished and she grabbed her giant mug from the drainer and poured herself a full cup, stirring in some honey. She wrapped both hands around the mug and headed for the living room, and her tablet. 

Within minutes she was wrapped in a blanket, curled up against the corner of the couch, her tablet resting on her legs, getting far too involved in a fantasy novel. Occasionally she would sip at her tea, but really, she was just letting the time pass and calming herself down. She kind of let the world around her fade into the background as she read and relaxed, fully content with her position at that moment. So she didn’t jump when two hands were laid on her shoulders, her only reaction was that her head snapped up to face the person. She let a smile spread across her face at the shirtless Bruce Banner standing behind the couch.

“Can’t sleep?” He asked, walking around the couch to sit next to her. A quick glance at her tablet told her it was four-forty in the morning. She glanced at Bruce and shook her head. 

“Nightmare.” She answered. Without asking her pulled her blanket off a little and scooted in close to her. She let him, not bothered in the slightest. He bent forward to pick up his own tablet, and she made a decision. She scooted closer to him and rested her back against his side, mirroring her earlier position but with Bruce as the support for her back.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” She asked, nestling her head against his shoulder.

“Not entirely. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He responded, flicking his fingers across his tablet as he skimmed through things. Natasha hummed in response and snuggled closer. 

“What are you reading?” Bruce asked after a while, and Natasha blinked and had to pull herself away from her novel once more.

“This fantasy trilogy Pepper recommended. I’m enjoying it.” She said fondly, holding up her tablet so he could see. He simply hummed as he appraised it. 

“You?” She asked, unable to see just what he was doing on his tablet.

“Jane’s new publication.” He said, already back to being absorbed in his tablet. Natasha smirked and went back to her novel. Dawn came and passed while they were situated like that, and when Natasha surfaced again, it was well past eight in the morning.

“Did we have any plans today?” She asked, nudging Bruce in the side a little. He jerked upright and blinked.

“No, we were planning on just staying in today. Barring another apocalypse.” Bruce said, setting his tablet down. Natasha hummed and sat up, stretching out her legs. “Breakfast?” He added, standing once she was off of him.

“Mmm. Sure.” She hummed, throwing off the blanket. She turned to watch him walk towards the kitchen. After a moment more of blissful lounging she set her tablet aside and rose to follow her boyfriend. She found him in the kitchen heating a pan with butter, the carton of eggs on the counter next to him. She sidled up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her head between his shoulder blades.

“Bacon, sausage and green pepper omelet?” She asked hopefully. He motioned to the bowls of ingredients next to him on the counter and she smirked. He knew her so well. She pulled away briefly to refill her cup of tea. Then she cleaned out the maker and filled it with Bruce’s favorite.

“We’re being sickeningly domestic, Bruce. Have we been replaced with pod people?” She asked, her tone clearly joking as she pressed up against his side to watch him work. He smirked and turned to her. 

“I don’t know, if this is what pod people are like, I could get used to this.” He commented, adding the egg mixture to the pan. Natasha snorted and rolled her eyes. By the time Bruce had finished frying two rather large omelets, the tea maker was finished. Natasha poured Bruce a cup and together they descended upon their kitchen table. Natasha never really expected to have a life like she did now, but she definitely wasn’t complaining. Especially as she dug into her omelet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Draco!

“Do pod people get shot?” Natasha asked suddenly, peering down at Bruce as he worked towards stitching her side. Bruce rolled his eyes.

“Again with the pod people thing? We’d know if we were pod people, Natasha. You kind of know these things.” Bruce finished off the line of stitches and nudged her arm up so he could work on the second wound.

“But what if we don’t? We could be Skrulls. Or androids replacing our fleshy selves.” Natasha said thoughtfully and Bruce shook his head. He forgot how bad of an idea it was to give Natasha a heavy dose of morphine. “Clones, holograms. We could be anything.” She continued and Bruce sighed. She was starting to wave her arms around to prove her point, which was making Bruce’s job even harder.

“Tash, we have not been replaced with anything or anyone. We’re still us, now stop moving.” He brought the cloth up to wipe away the blood that was actively pooling under her armpit. 

“You don’t know that. What if I was already replaced before you met me? What if I’m not me but just a facsimile of what I used to be? What if you’re not you. Well, it would be hard to copy Hulk, but still. My point stands. I could very well not be me. You don’t know.” She rambled on and Bruce stayed silent, there wasn’t much he could say. But at least she stopped waving her arms around.

“Considering you’re sitting in front of me still bleeding, and bleeding red, human-like blood, I think it’s safe to say you are you. Do you need to see my hands? Because they’ve covered in your blood. And I’m pretty damn familiar with what human blood should feel like, you are definitely you. And human. So calm down.” He finished off the last stitch as he finished speaking and wiped away the last of the blood. For good measure he held his bloodied hands in front of her face. She stared blankly at him before folding in on herself.

“And what if I don’t want to be me? What if I wish I wasn’t me sometimes, Bruce? What if I’m just trying to find an excuse for what I’ve done in my past? Maybe I want to be a pod person.” She said softly, averting her gaze. Bruce stilled for a moment, he wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t good at comforting, and he knew her words were at least partially truthful, even if was the painkillers dropping her usual shields. He made quick work with wrapping her ribs, even if she wasn’t entirely being cooperative. When he was done he just tugged her against his chest. 

“We’ve all done awful things in our past. Even Steve. We can’t escape that, and we can’t forget it. But it can make us strive to be better people now. You should know that. You need to stop worrying and stop fighting the drugs. There’s a reason I did this on our bed, lay down. Go to sleep. You came home the most banged up.” And she did. Broken ribs and deep bullet grazes, enough close calls in one fight to last months, in Bruce’s opinion. She leaned against him and pulled closer, but didn’t budge. Didn’t move to follow his advice. He took one arm and swept the stuff he had needed to the floor, he could pick it up later. He moved to lay down and gently pulled Natasha down with him. 

“I think you gave me too much, Bruce.” She murmured softly once they were both laying down. She tucked up against his front and heaved a sigh, flinching at the movement of her ribs. Bruce shook his head.

“You’re just tired, and that adds to it. We’ve all been awake for a few days with this. Go to sleep.” He started rubbing her arm with his free one. Another soft sigh and she finally seemed to take his advice. And he was left awake, pondering her identity crisis. He had thought the pod people thing had been a joke, but he supposed it had grown into more. He’d pin her down for a talk when she was rested, because it seemed like something they needed to address.


End file.
